


Could Have Been

by mahoni



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Age Regression, Angst, Canon Related, Crack, Cuddling and Snuggling, Established Relationship, Kidfic, M/M, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-06
Updated: 2010-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-05 21:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahoni/pseuds/mahoni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ezra lets an old woman beat him at poker. It has unexpected results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could Have Been

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Brief violence against a child; implied child neglect.

Chris knew he should say something. He was the defacto leader of the damn pack of them, so he should probably be coming up with a plan. But he was pretty sure this was more up Nathan's alley.

He hoped like hell it was up Nathan's alley.

"Uh," Nathan said. Crouched at eye level, he stared at Ezra for a moment longer; scratched his head; propped his chin in his hand; started to say something; stopped; and finally shrugged helplessly.

"What do you mean --" Buck quoted the shrug back at him with an exaggerated lift of his shoulders. "You're the doctor, ain't you supposed to know how to deal with all kinds of -- of -- bodily harm?"

"He ain't been harmed, Buck, he's been..." Nathan trailed off, shaking his head. "Look, if he falls and skins his knee or gets a tummy ache, I'm your man. But I don't got a damn clue how to fix something like this."

As soon as Nathan's attention shifted from him to Buck, Ezra started to edge away from Nathan. He clutched the blanket around him, inching backwards in the direction of the door, surreptitiously keeping an eye on the three other men in the room.

As soon as he caught Chris watching him, though, he froze. His green eyes looked huge in his small face, but other than that his expression was perfectly composed. It was an eerie thing to see on a --

Well, now, there was a question nobody had thought to ask yet.

"How old are you, boy?" Chris said. His voice came out gruffer than he meant it to, and he winced.

Ezra hesitated just a fraction. When he spoke, his familiar heavy accent was all wrapped up in an unfamiliar, tiny voice. "I am five years old, sir."

The silence maybe went on a little too long; that along with the three men staring him down made Ezra shrink a little into his blanket wrap.

Then Buck took a step back and dropped to sit on Ezra's rocking chair with a thump.

"Well," Buck said. "Shit."

*

The best they could figure, somebody had magicked Ezra somehow. Never mind that Chris didn't believe in that sort of thing.

Or, he never had believed in it. He wasn't sure what he believed now, after seeing -- with his very own eyes, and with Nathan and Buck there to tell him he wasn't crazy because they saw it too -- Ezra go all shimmery and ghostly and turn into a little boy.

What the hell they were going to do about it, though, none of them knew. Nathan headed out to track down Josiah, because if it wasn't something Nathan could fix with his medicines they hoped it might be something Josiah might know something about from his studies of religion.

Chris sent Buck to find someone to bring up a set of Billy Travis' clothes, and to start asking around the saloon about the people Ezra had been talking to and cheating at cards that day.

That left Chris with Ezra.

He scrubbed a hand irritably over his face and muttered "I didn't think that through too well, dammit," to himself. Normally when he had Ezra alone in a room at night Chris knew exactly what to do with him. But that was _adult_ Ezra. This little, quiet child wearing a poker face better than some of the best gamblers Chris knew -- Chris didn't even know where to start.

Ezra still stood near his bed, near the pile of clothes he'd had to flounder out of when he suddenly became so small he was drowning in them. Even as Ezra looked curiously around the room, Chris could feel his attention. Sure enough, when Chris shifted uncertainly where he stood, Ezra's eyes were right back on him.

It was _damn_ eerie.

"Why don't you sit down," Chris said. He gestured at the bed. It was still rumpled from Nathan pulling the bed cover off to wrap around Ezra earlier. "Somebody will be along with some clothes in a bit."

Ezra glanced at the bed, and then moved to the rocking chair instead. He had to hoist the blanket up and kick at it to untangle his legs enough to perch on the edge of the chair.

"You hungry?" Chris said. "I can call up for something from the restaurant."

"No, sir," Ezra said. "But thank you for the offer."

Chris shook his head. Somehow it didn't really surprise him that Ezra had those ridiculous formal manners at so young an age. He'd always suspected Ezra wouldn't have been altogether normal as a child. He'd met Ezra's mother, after all.

He could still feel Ezra examining him without really looking at him. It made Chris twitchy for some reason. Any other little boy would have just stared outright, but there was Ezra being sneaky and calculating and _shady_. Chris felt like he ought to check himself and make sure he wasn't missing his pocketbook.

"I beg your pardon, sir," Ezra said.

And all of the little 'suh's were driving Chris a bit crazy, too.

"Ain't necessary to call me 'sir' every time you talk to me," Chris said. "You got something to say, just say it."

"Yessir-- um. Sorry, si --" Ezra broke off and took a sharp little breath.

For the first time since Ezra had pulled the too-big shirt off his head and found three men he didn't recognize gaping at him, the boy looked nervous. He bit his lip, and Chris could see his hands twisting in the folds of the bed cover.

"Is -- is -- will my mother be back soon?" he said.

_Oh, hell_, Chris thought. He ran a hand through his hair. Give him a pack of hoodlums stirring up trouble, somebody to beat bloody or shoot -- that sort of thing, Chris could handle.

A little boy wanting his mother when she was nowhere to be found... Well. Chris preferred not to have to deal with that sort of thing these days.

It was bad enough the little boy in question was somebody Chris cared about. Bad enough he had the same dark hair and slight build Adam used to have.

A knock on the door made Chris jump. He shook off those thoughts and said, "Yeah, come on in."

The door opened just enough for JD to slip into the room.

"It's me," JD said, grinning wryly. "I have some clothes from Ms. Travis. Buck told me to bring 'em over for..."

His grin faded when he closed the door and turned and caught sight of Ezra.

"Oh," he said. "Oh. Holy cow. That's _Ezra_."

Chris gritted his teeth. He'd been doing that a lot since that whole thing had started and his jaw was starting to hurt.

"Yeah," he said. "Buck told you what happened, I'm guessing."

"Sure, but I thought he was having me on."

JD held the neatly folded clothes clutched to his chest and stared, wide-eyed. Ezra stared back, though his expression was less wide-eyed and more trying-not-to-roll-his-eyes.

"JD, get him dressed and --" Chris waved a hand frustratedly. "I don't know. Keep an eye on him. Play with him if he wants to. Though God only knows if he knows how to play anything but poker even at this age."

"Where are you going?" JD said.

"Find Buck and Vin. Try to track down who might've done this."

He glanced at Ezra, who was listening and, surprisingly, watching Chris openly. Chris was startled to actually recognize the boy's expression: it was how Ezra looked at Chris when he was frightened of him and didn't want him to know. Chris had seen it only a couple of times -- when he'd pressed Ezra up against his closed door that first time and Ezra hadn't been sure if Chris was going to hit him or kiss him; and the first time Ezra had casually asked if Chris would be interested in staying a while after they'd been together one night. Chris had thought it made Ezra look too young and too easy to hurt, and made Chris want to pull him close and not let go for a long time.

"You all right?" Chris said.

Ezra nodded and didn't say anything in the pause Chris left for him. But when Chris turned to go Ezra slid off the rocking chair and said, "Excuse me. Mr. -- Mr. --"

"Larabee," JD offered.

"Mr. Larabee," Ezra said.

Chris stopped with his hand on the door handled. "What is it?"

"Are you my new daddy?" Ezra said. "Mother said I might have a new daddy soon. And she left me with you, so I thought perhaps you were my new daddy."

_Too young and too easy to hurt; dark hair and slight build, just like --_

Chris wrenched the door open, and then slammed it shut behind him and strode away down the hall.

*

"No bullshit?" Vin said for about the tenth time.

"_Vin_," Chris said. He stopped on the boardwalk just outside the saloon window. He could see the disbelief on Vin's face in the light spilling out. "Would you take a damn look at who you're talking to? Do I ever joke about things like this?"

Vin stifled a snort and rubbed a hand over his mouth to hide a smile. "Do you ever _joke_, more like. All right, okay, I guess I believe you."

They started walking again, and Vin said, "You know, there are some native tribes that believe a man can take the shape of an animal, or walk in the skin of another man. Ain't never heard of any of them going back to childhood, though."

"Great, Vin," Chris said. They came to the swinging half-doors of the saloon and pushed inside. "That's a real help."

Vin just grinned at him. He started to say something, too, but a shout from near the bar cut him off.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

They looked over in time to see a brief struggle, and one of the customers hold up a handful of money and wave it in the air. It was Ty Walters, who worked for Tiny at the livery. He slurred when he yelled, and was just drunk enough to sway a little when he stood.

"You little son of a bitch." Even drunk, his grip on the little boy's arm was tight; he shoved the money into the boy's face and shook him hard. "You tryin' to steal from me?"

"Dammit." Chris started shoving through the crowd. "Where the goddamned hell is JD?"

Because of course it was Ezra that Walters had hold of. Chris couldn't hear what Ezra said, but whatever it was made Walters' face go red.

"Don't you lie to me," he shouted, and backhanded Ezra across the face.

"Hey --" Chris caught Walters' arm as he lifted his fist to hit Ezra again. A quick, sharp twist spun Walters around; shoving Walters' arm hard up his back, Chris slammed him face down on the bar. "Why don't you pick on somebody your own size."

Walters spat out words incoherent with liquor and rage before he could manage, "Li'l bastard tried to steal from me --"

Vin had gathered up the bills Walters had dropped when Chris grabbed him. Taking the money from Vin, Chris crushed it into Walters' hand and yanked him up off the bar.

"And now you got your money back." He shoved Walters in the direction of the door. "So you can get the hell out of here."

Walters staggered into a table, nearly landing in a guy's lap as he reeled.

"You're supposed to be the law around here, Larabee." He jabbed a finger at Ezra. "You gonna just let him get away with taking my money?"

Chris glanced down. Vin had got Ezra off the floor and dusted him off, and was crouched beside him, blocking him from Walters while still keeping an eye on the man. Ezra just stood beside him, staring at the floor, one small hand pressed to the side of his face.

"I'll take care of him," Chris said. Shifting his gaze back to Walters, he tilted his head toward the door. "Go home. Before we take you down to the jail to sleep it off."

Chris waited until Walters had left and most of the patrons had gone back to their drinks or their cards or their women. Then he turned to Ezra.

"He okay?" Chris asked Vin.

"Yeah." Vin had a hand resting lightly on Ezra's arm. "Little shook up maybe."

The blind rage that had rushed through Chris when he saw Walters hit Ezra was fading. Now that he had a chance to think things through, though -- Ezra had been five years old for what, two hours? And he was already down in the saloon picking pockets, for God's sake -- he was getting mad all over again. Whether he was mad at Ezra for doing it, or mad at Maude Standish for teaching a boy that young to put himself in harm's way like that, Chris wasn't sure. One thing he knew -- JD was getting his ass chewed later for letting Ezra loose.

"Come on," Chris said. When Ezra looked up at him, he pointed toward the stairs leading up to the rooms. "Upstairs. -- _now_," he said, when Ezra didn't move right away.

At the harsh tone of Chris' voice Ezra jerked into motion, heading quickly for the stairs.

Standing slowly, Vin gave Chris a careful look. "You going to be okay with him?"

Chris glared at him. "Why don't you track down Nathan, tell him to come up to Ezra's room."

Vin hesitated, eying Chris narrowly. Whatever he saw made him shake his head and blow out a resigned breath. "Yeah. All right. Just -- take it easy on him, okay?"

They both looked over to where Ezra was slowly climbing the stairs. The banister railing was just shy of taller than him; all Chris could see of his face was his eyes peering over top of it at them. When Ezra saw them looking back at him, he ducked his head and ran the rest of the way up and out of sight.

"I'm with Josiah," Vin said. "Poor kid was raised by wolves. Or close enough."

*

Chris kept his temper just fine, as a matter of fact.

At first.

Then he found the stash of stuff in Ezra's pockets.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Billy's clothes were big on Ezra. The shirt-sleeves and trousers were rolled up, and the waistband of the trousers was cinched with what looked like one of Ezra's silk neckerchiefs. The pants bagged and bulged quite a bit -- so much that Ezra had been able to hide a pocketbook, two wads of money and a real nice engraved silver watch in the pockets. Chris wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't known Ezra well enough to be looking for something like that.

He tossed the stuff on the bed. "Anything else?"

Ezra shook his head. Apparently he'd been working on his best repentant expression since he was five, because there he was pulling it at Chris. That just pissed Chris off more.

"Christ." He waved at the things on the bed. "You can't steal. Okay? You can't take things that don't belong to you. I'm real sorry your mother taught you otherwise, but I'm telling you right now that I will tan your hide if I ever catch you doing it again."

He stopped, partly because if he kept yelling like that people in the other rooms might complain. But also partly because Ezra's fake, earnestly apologetic expression had cracked. The boy looked utterly confused.

"What?" That came out a shout too, and Chris forced himself to quiet down more. "What now? What about 'you will get your ass whupped if you steal from people anymore' don't you understand?"

When Ezra looked sideways at the money and the watch, Chris got a good look at the bruise swelling on his face.

The thought rushed through his head before he could stop it -- _if he'd been mine I would have raised him right. I would have taken better care of him --_

Then he had to stop thinking and scrub his hand hard down his face before he could finish the rest of that thought --

_\-- better than I did with Adam --_

"Ah hell." He blew out a breath, and all his anger went out with it.

Ezra was keeping an eye on him from beneath the mussed-up hair falling in his eyes. Dry eyes -- it occurred to Chris that Ezra hadn't cried, not even when Walters had hit him. It was just one more thing that wasn't normal about him, but it was not normal in a way that felt more wrong than anything else young Ezra had done so far.

Chris eased himself down to a crouch, moving slow so as not to scare the boy. Reaching out, he caught Ezra's chin and gently turned Ezra's head so he could examine the darkening bruise.

"That could have been worse," he said quietly. "You know that? If me and Vin hadn't come along when we did, Ty Walters would've lit into you and not let up til you were... Well. I'm just saying, he's a mean drunk. So it could have been a lot worse."

"Yessir," Ezra said, quietly too.

"I don't like it when you do things like that," Chris said. "Put yourself in harm's way for nothing more important than a little money. I don't know how to protect you when you do that."

It took Chris a second to hear his own words, and realize he'd said it wrong. Or, he'd said it like he was talking to older Ezra, his Ezra.

He'd never said anything like that to his Ezra before, though. Hadn't even known he thought it until then. It was true, though. The thing he hated most about the shit Ezra pulled at the gambling tables was the fact that if somebody took issue with it Chris didn't know how to protect him.

Chris wondered if Ezra would remember it when he went back to being himself, if he ever did. He almost hoped he would. Then Chris wouldn't have to decide whether to say it again.

He realized Ezra had said something in reply.

"What?" he said.

Pitching his voice just the littlest bit louder -- just above a whisper -- Ezra said, "I got all of that for you. I thought you would like it."

_Why the hell would you think that,_ was on the tip of Chris' tongue. But he thought before he spoke this time, and then he thought maybe he understood.

"Because of me maybe being your new daddy?"

Ezra nodded. "I did that for my last daddy. But I'm better at it now. Mostly."

There was nothing fake or calculated in Ezra's eyes this time; the earnestness was real.

_Hell._ Chris dropped his hand to Ezra's slender shoulder and give it a soft squeeze.

Chris hoped Josiah or Buck came up with something soon. He didn't know how long he could deal with this Ezra before he'd have to track Maude Standish down and have some _words_ with her. He needed his Ezra back.

*

"You're saying he _didn't_ cheat you," Chris said, because he wasn't sure he'd heard that right.

The woman nodded. She didn't look like a witch. She looked like somebody's sweet old granny, as a matter of fact, with her plump, rosy cheeks and her calico dress and her bag full of yarn and knitting needles. But a witch she was, so she claimed.

"I'm terrible at the cards," she said. "But sometimes I just like to sit down and try my hand at it. Got to do these things while I'm still young."

She smiled at Buck with twinkling eyes. He grinned back at her.

"Right you are, ma'am," he said.

"But you won," Chris said.

"That I did," she said. "I played -- oh, I don't even know how many hands. Too many. I always stop at two, but that sweet young man was so pleasant to talk to that I just kept going. He could have taken all my money and I wouldn't even have realized it. Instead I ended up with twice as much as I'd come to the table with. It was no skill on my part, so clearly he let me win."

That was...probably the last thing Chris had ever expected to hear from anyone who'd sat down at Ezra's table.

"But," Vin said. He scratched his head. "So. You cursed him because he was nice to you?"

"It's not a curse." She huffed patiently at him. "As I told you. It's a spell."

"A spell to make him a boy barely out of short pants," Chris said. "Because. Why?"

"Well, he told me all kinds of charming things about his mother," she said. "And he was lying through his teeth the whole time. I'd wager he had no kind of childhood at all. I thought he might like an evening to be a child with people who would take good care of him."

Chris opened his mouth to respond to that, but paused to give himself a chance to turn that one over in his mind.

So far Ezra's evening of revisiting childhood had involved being abandoned by JD when JD saw Casey Wells out the window and ran out to walk her home; getting beat up by a drunk in the saloon; and getting yelled at by Chris.

Chris shut his mouth and cupped his hand tiredly over his eyes. _Ah, shit._

Buck cleared his throat.

"Well, ma'am, that was mighty kind of you. I'm sure Ezra appreciates it." Buck shined up his most charming smile and laid it out for her. "But I do wonder if you were thinking you might let him grow back up? Maybe real soon?"

The old woman smiled back at him and patted his arm. "Oh, of course, of course. Just tuck him into bed tonight, and when you wake up in the morning it will all be put right again."

*

Ezra's night shirt was too big for his small self, but Chris figured he'd grow into it sometime before morning. And anyway, Ezra didn't seem to mind.

He was tucked into his bed, as prescribed by the old woman. Earlier, Nathan had brought Ezra hot cocoa, and Josiah had told him a story about the jungle where the chocolate beans come from. Buck had helped him whup JD in a game of checkers. Vin had seen Ezra eying the beaded sash he wore with his belt; he had taken it off and let Ezra trace the designs on it with curious fingers, and told him what they all meant.

Generally everybody had bent over backwards trying to make Ezra's night as a kid better than his lousy evening. It was ridiculous, and Chris called them all pushovers, and enjoyed the hell out of the way they all got Ezra to smile and laugh.

"You need anything before I put out the lamp?" he said.

Ezra shook his head, yawning hugely. He watched Chris arrange some blankets on the floor for himself.

"You're not my new daddy, are you," he said.

Chris straightened and smiled a little. "No. I'm not."

"Then," Ezra said. "Can we be friends?"

Narrowing his eyes, Chris looked for any sign of bullshit, any sign of a childish attempt to con him. He didn't see it. He just saw nervousness, and a little hope.

"Course we can. We already are." Then Chris gestured at the blankets on the floor. "I'll be right here if you need me. Okay?"

Ezra said, "Okay. Thank you." Then he twisted the blanket in his hands and said, "That's awfully far away, though."

Chris looked up at the ceiling until he could be sure he wouldn't laugh. "You want me to sleep up there with you?"

"You don't have to," Ezra said sadly.

_Manipulative little son of a bitch,_ Chris thought. _At age five. Christ._

He couldn't help feel a bit fond about it, though. That probably said something about him, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know exactly what it said.

He put out the lamp and stretched out on top of the bed covers on the free side of the bed. For a while Ezra lay still, but Chris kept himself awake and waited. Sure enough, as soon as Ezra thought Chris was asleep he scooted over and curled up against Chris' side.

Apparently some things never changed.

*

The sky outside the windows was still dark when Ezra shot up in bed. He nearly knocked Chris off the bed in the process, which meant Chris woke up too.

Ezra's weight on the bed beside him was far too heavy for a child. When Ezra spoke his voice was a familiar, smooth tenor.

"That was," he said to himself. "That was strange. Strangest dream."

"Dream?" Chris said.

After a startled pause, Ezra's hand reached out and landed on Chris' chest. "You're sleeping in my bed," he said slowly.

"I do that on occasion these days," Chris said.

"Right," Ezra said. "Of course you do."

He laid back down, leaving his hand where it was. Chris moved his own hand up to cover Ezra's. It wasn't a tiny hand anymore, thank God.

"Am I correct in assuming we were victorious in the fight?" Ezra said.

Chris blinked at the darkness. "Fight?"

"Well, my face hurts, so I've obviously engaged in some kind of confrontation. But I don't remember quite what happened." He cleared his throat. "I do remember getting hit. Sort of. But other than that..."

"What?" Chris said. "What else do you remember?"

"Nothing. Just the dream. I was a child and..." He broke off and laughed softly and a little self-consciously. "Well. I thought you were my father. Which is a bit disturbing, given the nature of our relationship."

Chris shook his head. Tomorrow would be interesting, when Ezra found out it hadn't actually been a dream.

For now he just tugged on Ezra's wrist to pull him close. "So long as you're all grown up now. Hey, I'm still tired. Go back to sleep."

Ezra sighed sleepily. "All right." He burrowed back under the covers, curling up on his side and letting his head fall against Chris' shoulder. "Incidentally, since you are here, don't mind if I..."

"Nope, don't mind."

Ezra stretched out, slinging a leg over Chris' knees and sliding his arm tighter around Chris' waist. It was familiar and comfortable, and Chris felt himself relax beneath it.

He didn't have had the first clue how to deal with the small, fragile, criminal child Ezra had been, but this was familiar territory. This was his Ezra.

He still, he decided as he drifted off again, might have to have words with Maude next time he saw her, though.

 

*End*


End file.
